I Know What You Did Last Term
by Rhiannyx
Summary: Rose Weasley - perfect, model student. Until one night, when everything changes. She can't stay away from Hogwarts forever. Not with the Triwizard Tournament. They say to keep your friends close and your enemies closer - what if Scorpius Malfoy is a bit of both? The past can only come back to bite, and Teddy Lupin isn't staying away for long. What really happened last term?
1. The Girl Behind the Red Hair

**A/N: A Rose/Scorpius fanfic with a bit of twist...It's abound with lies and deceit, but will the truth rise from the ashes? Hope you like it! Please leave a review, even if it's saying it's awful! Rated because these wizard swears are a bit more than cauldron bum (PPP anyone?)**

* * *

"Rose, have you packed?"

"Yes, dad, for the hundredth time, I've packed!" Letting out a grunt of frustration, she shoved the final book into her trunk with a little too much force – the spine gave a feeble sob and ripped down the middle. Rose made a strange, strangled noise and hurled herself onto her bed, her face buried in her pillow.

Ron Weasley poked his head round her bedroom door. "Go away." She said, her voice muffled.

He walked over to her slowly and hesitantly, reaching out a tentative hand to her. Rose slowly turned her head to him, and he saw her eyes were bloodshot, her eyelashes spiked. Glistening trails streaked her face, black from her eyeliner smudged across her skin. As he looked at his daughter, he saw a tear drop down onto her pillow. "It's going to be fine."

"What part of this is fine?" Her voice was shaking as her shoulders heaved.

"You're going to have a nice time at Beauxbatons." He gripped her hand between his and squeezed it tightly.

"Dad, I'm not going on holiday, I've been expelled!" She wrenched herself free from him and pulled her covers over her head, trying to drown herself in darkness.

"Rose, let's not talk about this right now." His tone was suddenly dark and she heard the bedsprings groan as he stood. "I'll take your trunk down to the car."

As the bedroom door slammed shut, a tidal wave of emotions crashed over her and she could do nothing to suppress the wail that came from her mouth. What would her friends think when they looked up and down the Gryffindor table at the feast and her bright red head was gone from the sea of students? Sooner or later (she preferred the latter), they would find out what really happened – or at least, what the Headmaster Professor Kopf said happened (no one was really sure why his surname was 'Head' in German, although it ironically fitted very well with his position!)

They'd wonder where it all went wrong. Rose Weasley was the epitome of her mother – a Prefect, always abided by the rules, top of the year (yet not in Ravenclaw) – but she also had the joking streak of her father and his brothers. She played Quidditch and was actually very good, much to everyone's surprise (her father was rather infamous for his skills as a Keeper). Add on the fact that she was carelessly beautiful, it was almost a given that almost every guy wanted to date her and every girl wanted to be her! But now...her name would be wiped from the Quidditch team, her badge given to someone else; every trace of her would be removed, as though Obliviate had been cast on Hogwarts.

Part of her hoped her friends wouldn't forget her...but if they found out why she had been expelled, they'd make sure they did. It wasn't fair. They would never know the truth.

* * *

The deafening yells of her parents and brother jolted her back to reality. As she heard the thunder of footsteps coming up the stairs, she leapt to her feet, trying to tame her wild mane of hair. Hugo pushed open her door, his little face peeping around it. "Rosie, are you ready?"

She took a deep breath. Only Hugo had still looked at her the same way since that day. She couldn't imagine not seeing her little brother every day in the Gryffindor Common Room – who would make sure he'd done his homework? He would be starting his O. this year...and she had a feeling his friends would see to it he did no revision. Hopefully their cousin, Albus, would keep him on track. Her eyes strayed to his letter, crumpled into a ball on her desk. He'd been made Head Boy. Professor Kopf had told her she was a cert for Head Girl this year...but then it had happened.

"Yeah, I'm ready." She tried to keep her voice calm and level, but it was a struggle. Her brother gave a small smile and led her out the room.

The car felt like it was blocked by a brick wall. Rose stared into the mirror, trying desperately to catch her mother or her father's eyes, but they were both resolutely avoiding her. Hugo was huddled in his seat, looking out the window. Rose knew how hard it was for him, and she wished there were some way he didn't have to go through this with her.

She couldn't bear to go on to Platform 9¾ and watch the scarlet steam engine trundle off into the distance without her. Even as she made to get out the car, she saw familiar faces swarm past and she hid behind the metal barrier that shielded her from them. Her parting words to Hugo were to never make the same mistake she did.

Soon enough, her parents returned, and she gripped her mother's arm tightly, squeezing her eyes shut, before they Apparated to Beauxbatons, and to Hell.

* * *

Scorpius Malfoy flicked his food across his plate lazily, the only hunger he felt in his eyes as he scanned the Gryffindor table for a hint of red. His heart raced as he saw a crimson mane of hair, but then he realised it was only that twerp Hugo Weasley. He was looking for someone much better.

After a highly boring start-of-term feast, where all that happened was Professor Kopf droned on about how eating diarrhoea can cause liquorice wands...or was it the other way around? Not that he cared either way.

"Mr Malfoy, would you like me to cut your steak?"

Scorpius jumped, turning to confront whoever it was for so rudely pulling him from his daydream, but stopped when he saw who it was. Little Timmy had forced his way beside Scorpius now staring at him intently.

"Erm...no, it's fine." Scorpius tried to shuffle away from him, rather disconcerted by his puppy-dog gaze, but Timmy just slid after him along the bench. Malfoy realised he couldn't move any further away without shoving into the Slytherin beside him, so he tried to muster all his dignity and, flicking his hair off his face, said "Actually, Timmy, there is something you can do for me. Go over to the Gryffindor table and ask Hugo Weasley where his sister is."

"But..." Timmy cast a nervous glance around. "I thought we didn't talk to Gryffindors."

"_I_ can't. _You_ can." Scorpius refrained from saying why. The second-year Slytherin practically jumped off the bench and scampered over to the Gryffindor table. Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"Why do you put up with him?"

He turned to the source of the voice. It was a girl who he thought was in his year, or just someone stupid enough to address him. Her name was Rhea or something. "He's useful."

"He obviously wants to bum you." She snorted and turned back to her pie.

* * *

Timmy returned soon, and Malfoy did his best to get the thoughts of bumming out his mind. "Mr Malfoy, sir...she's not here."

"What do you mean, not here?" He snapped, spinning round so quickly that he forgot to drop his knife. Timmy went almost cross eyed as he tried to keep watch on the blade almost decapitating him.

"I mean...she's been expelled."

The knife plummeted from Scorpius' grip. Timmy leapt away before it could sever off his toe as it crashed to the floor. Malfoy's jaw was slack. She couldn't have been expelled because of...that?


	2. The New Professor

**A/N: I'm afraid I have an awful habit of writing rather short chapters! Sorry! This is only the build up, so hopefully the next ones should be longer! Oh, and sorry to disturb you with this annoying note! But anyway, R&R! (If you like cookies. Reviews are like cookies. The more you get, the more you give out!)**

* * *

"Boys and girls."

There was a faint tapping of glass, but no one actually paid the slightest attention. A few people sniggered as Professor Kopf straightened his pointed hat and tried again. "Ladies and gentlemen!"

Even the staff ignored him. Professor Longbottom, the Herbology teacher, pointedly turned to talk to Professor Patil, the Divination teacher. Professor Slughorn had dozed off in his seat, the goblet in his hand slowly tipping over his emerald velvet waistcoat, staining it an unpleasant scarlet.

"SILENCE!"

A collective shriek ran through the Hall. Every head turned in the direction of the staff table, amazed that Professor Kopf could make such a noise. However, this was proved wrong as the sight of the tiny Headmaster gripping the brim of his hat in terror met their eyes. On the chair beside him, carelessly lounging against the gilded arm, sat a teacher no one had ever seen before.

"Who's that?" The murmur echoed from every corner of the room as students exchanged glances. Scorpius sat up a little straighter, his eyes narrowed. Evidently, this person believed they lorded over the school.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, boys and girls." Kopf squeaked in his weedy voice. "Now, as you know, the caretaker Mr Filch would like to remind you all that absolutely no jokes are to be made about cats, or dead cats, or anything relating to cats or dead cats."

From the back of the hall, the disgusting sound of someone blowing their nose like a trumpet could be heard. A groan came from the Gryffindor table, where Fred Weasley looked absolutely distraught at the thought of not being able to laugh about Mrs Norris. Despite how much Scorpius thought the cat had deserved it, he couldn't help but relish in the fact that the Weasley wouldn't be getting more attention. His dad and uncle had had enough of that.

As Kopf went off into the long ream of rules and regulations, this was the moment when most students would have fallen asleep. However, not today. Every single eye was fixed on the man dressed in the black robes beside the Headmaster.

Eventually, Kopf finished on his explanation about the new Self-Rolling Toilet Rolls the school had installed, and just as he was about to start speaking, a loud throat-clearing interrupted him. With a yelp of surprise, he turned to face the strange man who had gotten to his feet.

"Headmaster." The man nodded, and Kopf practically shrunk into his seat. "Students of Hogwarts." He bared his teeth at the sea of faces before him. "I am your new Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"NO!" "What about Professor Lupin?" Shouts filled the entire room as students leapt to their feet, their faces contorted with rage. Even many Slytherins allowed a look of horror to cross their uncaring facades. Teddy Lupin was the greatest DADA teacher they'd had! Where had he gone?

Scorpius Malfoy sat paralyzed with fear in his seat.

* * *

"QUIET!" The man yelled, and instantly, the cries were quelled. "That's better." Barely noticeably, he made a slight movement beneath his robes, and Scorpius saw a flash of wood. "My name is Professor Lycon. I hope that we shall have an enjoyable year together." Again, he flashed his blood-curdling leer.

"Thank you, Professor Lycon." Kopf had finally mustered up the courage to speak. As Lycon slowly sat back down, the Headmaster piped up. "This is a very special year. After much consideration, a great magical tradition has been decided to be renewed. It is my great pleasure to announce that this year, after two previously unsuccessful attempts since 1994, Hogwarts shall once again hold the Triwizard Tournament!"

If a pin had dropped, it would have sounded like a cannon blast in the silence that then fell. The Triwizard Tournament.

Scorpius couldn't stop the grin spreading across his face. Just what he needed to finally prove his worth to the scum of Hogwarts. If he could win, what eternal glory he would gain!

* * *

"Are you going to enter, Scorp?" Lorcan Scamander cast a glance over at the blond who was, he knew, only pretending to be asleep. No one ever really understood how the son of Luna Lovegood had become a Slytherin, but they'd stopped questioning it after a while.

"The Tournament?" Scorpius opened one eye.

"No, the Chamber of Secrets!"

"Shut it." Scorpius sat up and threw the shoe beside his bed at Lorcan. "Of course I am." He settled himself back down again, smiling slyly.

"I think I will too!"

"Good luck with that!" Malfoy snorted. "They'd have to spend all the prize money on your coffin."

"I won't be as bad as Diggory!" Lorcan pouted.

"You keep telling yourself that."

* * *

Hugo Weasley lay in a fitful state. People had already begun asking questions about Rose, but he couldn't tell them what had really happened. And that new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher...he was definitely a little more than that. Hugo's first thought would have been a paedophile, but it was unlikely.

Then, an even worse thought struck him. The Triwizard Tournament included Beauxbatons...what if Rose came?


	3. Unfriendly Competition

"Settle down."

Professor Lycon could have asked the class to have a rave and they'd all have fallen as silent as they did then. One sound from his deep, growling voice was enough to terrify the entire school into a coma. Albus Potter accidently dropped the stack of books he was carrying in his haste to sit down, and Scorpius deliberately stomped on of them to prevent him from grabbing it.

"You, boy." Lycon swooped down on Albus. Scorpius hastily withdrew his foot. "What do you think you're doing, crawling about on the floor? Get back to your seat!"

Albus straightened up, the badge on his robe flashing rather ominously. Professor Lycon eyed it with a sneer. "Head Boy, eh? Don't expect preferential treatment from me for being the Headmaster's favourite."

Scorpius snorted quietly, and Lycon's head snapped towards him. Instead of reprimanding him, a small smile curved across the teacher's face. With one contemptuous look at Scorpius, Albus slumped into his seat. Malfoy titled his chair back on two legs. What was the Head Boy going to do? Put him in detention?

"As you know, this year, the Triwizard Tournament was reinstated." Professor Lycon strode to the front of the classroom, drawing out his wand swiftly and flicking it. Words scrawled themselves across the board. "Now." He spun around to face the students, who all recoiled. "Who can tell me what happened last Triwizard Tournament?"

His hawk-like vision scanned the class. Finally, they settled on someone. "You. Who better than you to answer? The son of the famous Harry Potter?"

Every head turned in the direction of Albus. A lump rose in his throat. "Cedric Diggory died. And...and Voldemort returned." A sudden shudder travelled through the room like an electric current.

Professor Lycon gave a bark of a laugh. "You're all still afraid of the Dark Lord? Your father saved us from him." He fixed Albus with what he may have believed a friendly smile. It really looked like 'I'm going to rape you in the broom cupboard'.

"You should never have brought it back!" Albus said, his voice rising (and the colour in his face, too).

"I assure you, Mr Potter, that no one shall die and there shall be no elusive Dark Wizards returning _this_ time. And besides, it wasn't my decision! All of the heads of wizarding schools and the Ministry of Magic unanimously agreed that it was time to bring back the tradition. What's the problem with a bit of friendly rivalry?"

"It's not friendly." Albus muttered under his breath. It wasn't quite clear if the professor heard him. He chose not to respond. Behind him, the chalk dotted a full stop with a loud clunk. Everyone started slightly.

What all the students had hoped would be the incantation for some awesome spell or a huge secret reserved only for seventh years actually read: 'N.E. . Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests.'

A loud groan emitted from the class. Professor Lycon's eyes flashed. "If any of you airheads actually intend on getting good jobs, a high degree at your N.E.W.T is crucial. Indeed, for those of you deluded enough to wish to become aurors, you will need an Exceeds Expectations at the least. Now, the course you will be studying is difficult, and I don't doubt many of you shall fail abysmally at it. But, I may be surprised. Are there any questions before I begin?"

"Yes!" Someone piped up. It was Dominique Weasley. Scorpius tried to suppress a sigh. Why was it, everywhere you looked, there was a Weasley? The girl went rather red as every eye focused on her, but she spoke defiantly. "Where's Professor Lupin?"

"He is on leave from Hogwarts. The Headmaster thought it best. Now." He looked around, as if daring anyone to ask another question about their old Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. "I shall take the register before we begin."

Every reply as he read out the names was monotonous and empty. Even Scorpius, who always tried his best to get on the good side of teachers to make up for his appalling grades, sounded lifeless.

"Rose Weasley?"

Silence fell as no answer came. The sound of shuffling was deafening as everyone swivelled in their chairs to look for the redhead. She wasn't hard to miss. But all they saw were puzzled faces staring back at them.

Scorpius shrunk in his chair. He noticed that Albus Potter froze. So he wasn't the only one who knew.

* * *

"The Triwizard Tournament has had a thorough redesign." The booming but serene voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Minister for Magic, reverberated through the Great Hall. "There is no need to fear your safety in this event. The Ministry have taken all precautions against this."

A shiver of fear ran through the school as several students exchanged glances. They'd said that the last time. Then someone had gotten killed...

The Hufflepuffs looked extremely terrified. Many of them were clinging onto one another. A few seemed to be suppressing tears. Obviously, they thought they were all doomed. Or perhaps it was the shame of having had Diggory as a member of their house. Understandable.

Scorpius gazed off into the distance, imagining the year to come – he was sure to win the Triwizard Tournament, if he was chosen. Then, perhaps he could pay someone to find Rose Weasley. Or bribe her little weed of a brother into telling him where she was.

"Very soon," Kingsley continued, breaking the sheet of ice that had penetrated the room "delegations shall arrive from the two other wizarding schools of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. We expect you all to be on your best behaviour, as you are representing Britain. Now, boys." His dark eyes twinkled. "Don't let the Veelas completely ruin you. They may be beautiful, but that's only one side of them." A chuckle resounded. "But, onto serious business." The Minister clapped his hands together. "I'm sure many of you know how this process works. Any applicants put their names in the Goblet of Fire, and then one is magically chosen. Likewise with Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. There are three competitors – and it shall be so, this time. Unlike the previous Tournament." His voice grew heavy and dark.

"I would like to remind you all, boys and girls, that applicants must be seventeen or over!" Professor Kopf squeaked, gathering the usual laughter from the students as his hat wobbled while he spoke.

* * *

"Seventeen. Just in time." Scorpius grinned to no one in particular. Lorcan nudged him with his shoulder.

"Stop being so full of yourself. Even if you do get entered, who's to say you'll win?"

Scorpius paused, his spoon hovering in the air before his mouth. Slowly, he turned his head to Lorcan. "Malfoys never lose."


	4. Beauxbatons and Durmstrang

Whoever it was that had invented them hadn't been lying when they named them Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests. Every lesson was exhausting to the point of being nasty, and each piece of homework even nastier and more exhausting!

There wasn't even Quidditch to look forward to, having had it put off this year owing to the Triwizard Tournament! This was a fact most would rather forget, but were constantly reminded by Louis Weasley, who stomped about the castle with his broom between his legs, holding a sign saying "BRING BACK QUIDDITCH OR I'LL BEATER YOU UP!" This, however, was stopped soon enough, when a haggard looking Professor Kopf chased him up the entire Grand Staircase after he started trying to play indoor Quidditch and accidentally hit the portrait of Sir Cadogan. As the knight roared and brandished his blade, the Headmaster hastily confiscated a red-faced Louis' broomstick and put him in detention.

One fact that seemed branded on everyone's mind was the fact that Rose Weasley had disappeared. Her gaggle of Gryffindor friends could be seen hovering around, looking a little lost without their leader. Even some of the teachers were distraught at discovering her absence. Professor Slughorn nearly broke down in tears when he asked the class who invented the Wolfsbane Potion, and instead of seeing the usual hand thrust into the air, all he was met with were bemused students. It seemed rather strange that not even the staff had been told of her expulsion.

However, only a very select few (and _un_select, as Scorpius knew – he didn't really understand why Timmy had been told so easily by Hugo, but he decided to let it slide) knew about the real reason the Weasley hadn't returned to school that term.

* * *

As the days stretched into weeks, favourites for the Tournament were becoming apparent. Hufflepuff, seemingly desperate to make up for their previous attempt, had taken to worshipping Molly Weasley (granted, she wasn't such an embarrassment as the rest of her house, and came from a much respected family). Ravenclaw had idolised Lysander Scamander, who possessed none of his mother's lunacy and many believed him a cert to win. Lorcan had a tendency to gag when he saw first-years chasing after his twin brother asking for autographs. Strangely, Gryffindor were hoping for winners to run in the family – Albus Potter was being bombarded by fangirls, and he was often seen exasperatedly trying to revise his Transfiguration while surrounded by shrieks.

And, to no one's surprise, Slytherins champion was to be Scorpius Malfoy. With careless good looks, reasonable enough brains and no sense of right or wrong, he was already placed on the winner's podium in all of his house's eyes.

A few rather pathetic students could be seen waving posters advertising themselves, but these were the ones who didn't have famous parents to set them in their stride. It would have been sad, had anyone actually cared.

* * *

Curiosity was aroused as October drew to a close - stealing the last dregs of autumnal sun and throwing rain relentlessly onto the grounds of Hogwarts – when the students surged into their Common Rooms to find a parchment pinned to their notice board reading:

_The students of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang shall be arriving on Saturday, October 31__st__. Hogwarts students shall meet the delegations in the Great Hall. Please arrive by no later than 6pm for dinner_

Many Slytherin students had trouble reading the next sentence, for it had been crossed out and underneath written:

_Or we'll look really bad._

And beneath it had been drawn a picture of Professor Kopf getting chased by his hat.

* * *

Saturday dawned wonderfully overcast. If they were going to welcome foreigners to Britain, they deserved to experience it at its most authentic – with a torrent of rain.

Despite being Hallowe'en, there was a noticeable absence of grotesque pumpkins pulling faces, and a rather obvious overload of shining suits of armour and glistening banisters. Were these students or inspectors coming to the school?

Filch spent a large proportion of the day sweeping up sweet wrappers from the floor as the pupils insisted on celebrating Hallowe'en. In the end, if he so much as saw a student's jaw move, he would practically choke them until they spat out their sweet and turned out all of their pockets.

Scorpius and Lorcan spent almost the entire day out in the school grounds, waiting anxiously for the arrival of the Veelas from Beauxbatons. Many of the girls who secretly harboured crushes on the two kept shooting them resentful glances. They struck rather an image – the two blonds sprawled out lazily beside the lake...and probably would have impressed the French girls, if a bug hadn't crawled onto Lorcan's lap and, in a state of panic, the boy hadn't leapt into the air, lost his balance and tumbled into the water, dragging Scorpius with them.

As they emerged, coughing and spluttering, their robes spilling waterfalls, a shocked Professor Lycon gave them so loud a telling-off that students sitting in the silence of the Library started and spun around, looking for the source of the noise. After they were sent to change and dry, they started feeling rather resentful to the students of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang.

* * *

Strangely, the arrival of the two schools didn't happen before 6pm, so the Hogwarts pupils were left on the edge of their seats inside the Great Hall, straining their ears for any noise. Many were rather put-out that they couldn't see whatever grand arrival was occurring soon.

Suddenly, the doors burst open, and Kingsley Shacklebolt swept up towards the teacher's table. Then, he turned and faced the students. "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, will you please welcome the students of Durmstrang Institute!"

Stamping could be heard echoing in the Entrance Hall. Every head turned to face the arrivals.

What looked like a horde of walking furs stormed into the Hall, their formation so stiff that they could have been an army. This suspicion only heightened as the tallest fur of all stepped forward and yelled. "Attention!"

Every single student straightened up immediately, apart from one boy who stumbled over his robe. The Headmaster turned his head slowly to the boy. "UP!" He grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and hauled him to his feet. Then, seeming to pretend it hadn't happened, he pivoted to face the teachers and led his students on a march through the Hall.

It was strikingly impressive, the way every foot fell in time, and the strange chant they chorused as they moved. All of a sudden, they halted.

"Drogan Esöb!" Professor Kopf leapt off his seat and sprinted round the table to shake hands with the Headmaster. Much to the joy of the Hogwarts students, he was about two heads smaller than Esöb and had to look up to see him, causing his hat to fall off.

"Stolidus Kopf." The Durmstrang Headmaster inclined his head, taking Kopf's hand. A lot of the pupils started, having never heard their Headmaster's full name. Everyone had thought he was called Stoli. Weird enough name as it was. Why did everyone have such strange names? Surely Esöb was allowed though, he was foreign.

"Wer are the Beauxbatons students?" Esöb asked, shaking off his hood, causing every one of his pupils to copy him. He spoke with a heavy accent that no one could really place.

"On their way...in fact, here they are now!"

Once again, every student swivelled round to stare towards the Entrance Hall. This time, the boys were rewarded. So much so, that Scorpius choked on the sweet he'd snuck in (gathering suspicious glares from Filch) and had a small coughing fit, Lorcan not helping as he thumped him on the back.

Leading the procession were two girls so beautiful, they really couldn't be considered human. Behind them, attracting the gawp of every single girl in the Hall (all of the boys were a little focused on something else) was a woman of gargantuan proportion. Many of their parents who had been around at the time of the previous Tournament had told them about this woman. Madame Maxime. They never thought they'd see her up close. Well...you couldn't see all of her if you were _too_ close. She was huge!

A trickle of students followed in the wake of their Headmistress, but very little attention was paid to these few boys and girls, who all looked absolutely terrified. Esöb stepped aside to let Professor Kopf attempt to kiss Madame Maxime's hand...though it involved much struggling and jumping until eventually he managed. "Olympe! What a pleasure!"

"Likewise." She smiled then her eyes settled on something at the end of the staff table. Every one followed her gaze to see a very red-faced Hagrid giving her a small wave.

"I really hope they sit over here!" Lorcan said breathlessly, forgetting all past grievances as he stared in awe at the Beauxbatons students (he'd noticed more than just the first two girls now, and liked what he saw).

"Shut up, you buffoon, stop waving your arms around or they won't!" Scorpius snapped.

The Durmstrang students had already settled themselves at the Gryffindor table, and many of the girls were already fawning over the boys. The girls from Durmstrang were a little over-shone by those from Beauxbatons – they all had a bit of an eyebrow problem.

"I don't believe it, they're coming over!" Lorcan gasped. He looked like Christmas had come early as the silk-robed students settled themselves on the Slytherin table. He nearly knocked over his glass in his haste to make room for a particularly pretty girl, who gave him a wide smile and he almost fainted.

Scorpius was a little more nonchalant, pretending not to notice as a girl sat beside him. Lorcan, however, gave him a wide-eyed stare and mouthed "That's one of them!" Malfoy presumed he meant the girls who had entered first – that, or one of the mole people! But it was more likely the first.

A few moments passed in which Scorpius sat smugly basking in the jealous glances from the boys of the other houses, until suddenly he accidently leaned too far back and nearly toppled off the bench. Before he could hit the floor, a pair of hands grabbed him.

"Thanks!" He gasped, straightening up and then realising whose hands it had been. The girl was staring right at him. His jaw dropped. Rose.


	5. Weasleys and Malfoys and Goblets, Oh My!

"What...what happened to your hair?" He stammered, feeling his face burn. Rose pretended not to hear him as several of the Beauxbatons students turned curiously to her.

Then, when their attentions had been diverted, she whispered "It's only magic."

He eyed her brown tresses with apprehension and slight distaste. "I like your old hair."

"Really, Scorpius?" Her tone suddenly grew dark. "I remember only last term you asking me who'd squashed a tomato on my head? Oh, and didn't you also once chuck a bucket of water over my head because you said my hair was on fire?"

His mouth opened and closed like a goldfish. "Well...I...it was only a joke..." he spluttered.

"Yeah, it was hilarious, Malfoy." He noted the use of his surname, and it stung. "Why do you care, anyway? You've always taken such pride in giving me crappy insults."

Before Scorpius could answer, someone interrupted him. "Mr Malfoy, sir, there's a letter for you!"

"Oh, piss – I mean, hello, Timmy!" Scorpius gave a half-smile that was definitely more of a grimace. The little Slytherin was nearly shoving an envelope up his nose. "Thanks. Oh, look, your friend wants you!" He gestured randomly over at the Hufflepuff table, and Timmy scarpered. "Twat."

"I forgot how much of a cruel bastard you are to him." Rose's voice was full of venom. "The poor kid does everything for you."

"And in turn, I make sure he doesn't end up exactly where he belongs – in the trash." Scorpius drawled, tearing apart the envelope. "You know, I wouldn't be surprised if this were a picture of his penis."

As Rose opened her mouth to respond, Lorcan cast her a curious glance and she hastily turned away, calling out to one of the few Beauxbatons girls she recognised. "Helene? Pouvez-vous me passer la bouillabaisse, s'il vous plait?"

Helene looked at her as if wondering who she was, but shrugged and passed her the platter all the same. As Rose looked down into the bits of meat floating in some strange sauce, she realised she probably should have asked for 'le poulet'.

"Since when have you spoken French?" Scorpius asked, incredulous.

"Since I spent the last two months around French people!" She hissed, glancing up to check that Lorcan wasn't looking at her. Fortunately, his attention had been claimed by the girl next to him.

"Are you going in for the Triwizard Tournament?"

"We don't have a choice." She replied, her tone suddenly turning dead. "Madame Maxime is forcing us to enter. I think she's still annoyed about the last time, and wants to make sure she sees a Beauxbatons winner."

"Well, she may not be in luck. History will probably repeat itself if Albus Potter gets put in. Prat. He thinks he lords over the school just because he's Harry Potter's son. If I were a part of that family, I'd-" he stopped, but realised he'd gone too far.

Rose's eyebrows were pulled together, her mouth hanging slightly open. She let out what sounded like a small laugh. "You haven't changed one bit, have you? And don't take that as a compliment."

Scorpius made a few incoherent noises, sounding a little like a mouse being trodden on. Rose ignore him completely, turning back to the bouillabaisse and seeming not to notice as she piled heaps of it on her plate.

* * *

The feast seemed to last for centuries. She didn't touch her food, her stomach churning too much for her to swallow anything. To think, all this time, she'd festered a tiny crush for him inside her...but now, he'd proved her father's warnings right!

On his part, Scorpius was having just as hard a time keeping his emotions on track. Did she realise how hard it was for him to like a blood-traitor?

* * *

As Professor Kopf rose to his feet, Rose was relieved for a distraction from the bile she could feel boiling in her insides. "Welcome, honoured guests, to Hogwarts! Two times we have tried to reinstate the Triwizard Tournament, and two times we have failed. But now, let this year be the year!"

A smattering of applause met this statement. A few Durmstrang students let out loud cheers, evidently too thick to comprehend the dangers of the Tournament.

"It is my greatest pleasure to welcome you, wizarding schools of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to our school! And now, because I'm sure you have things you'd rather do than listen to an old man wheeze on, I have one last announcement! However, I am not the one to make it!"

"Your safety is of the greatest concern to us." The Hogwarts students gasped as they realised it was Professor Lycon speaking. The Beauxbatons and Durmstrang pupils noticed this reaction and stared at the man in trepidation. "Though you shall be risking your lives in this, we expect the students selected to possess a clever enough mind to not accidentally get themselves blown up."

From anyone else, this statement would have produced a terrified outburst, but no one dared make a sound as an overwhelming sense of power radiated from the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.

"Obviously, there are three champions. I would have expected even the dumbest of you to have made the connection between Tri and three. The selected Champion from each school shall face three tasks, each designed to test the champion in different ways. It shall take more than bravery to win this competition, mark my words." And with that, he stepped back and resumed his seat in a swirl of black.

"The champion of each school shall be picked by an impartial judge, as it has before." Professor Kopf's voice sent a wave of calmness back over the Hall. "Mr Filch, would you please bring the judge forward?"

Many people turned (the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students doing so a little late, as they hadn't immediately understood what had been said) to see the caretaker hobbling towards the Headmaster. However, he wasn't leading a person. He was carrying a heavy casket that he appeared to be struggling enormously with. A small chuckle disturbed the silence.

"Thank you, Mr Filch." Professor Kopf said, laying the case on the floor. The caretaker made a strange noise that sounded disturbingly like 'meow' and scurried away to the suppressed laughter of many students. "And now, let me present the impartial judge – the Goblet of Fire!"

He pulled out a large cup from the depths of the chest. Several people near the front shielded their eyes from the blinding blue flames that spewed from the top. A murmur of surprise and awe tingled on the air.

"Champions wishing to enter merely place their name in the Goblet and, assuming they are of age, shall be taken as a nomination. Each school may only have one champion, and you can only submit your name once! I advice no one underage to try and cross."

No one needed telling. All of the pupils below seventeen were already looking terrified at the very prospect of being entered in the Tournament. It was clear to those old enough to compete that the stakes were high. Only a few really wanted to be entered. But who would triumph?

Across the hall, Albus Potter looked up to see Scorpius giving him a scathing glare. He merely smiled and turned back to his sister.

"Shall we go, Rose?"

Scorpius spun round and saw Rose getting to her feet, a boy dressed in silk robes helping her. She raised an eyebrow at him. "Since when is your name Rose?"

"Er...it's not. I wasn't...nothing." He looked down as he saw the mystery boy take hold of her hand and led her out the Great Hall.

* * *

As the students surged like a tidal wave into the Entrance Hall the following morning, they were stunned to a halt by the sight of the great Goblet dominating the room. As they watched in silent awe, the Durmstrang students marched through the front doors and, one by one, all dropped their names into the flames. To the curious eyes of the Hogwarts pupils, they noticed each one hesitate slightly before drawing near to the Goblet.

Next, it was the turn of Beauxbatons. With almost inhuman grace, each one glided forward and had their sheets of parchment engulfed by the fire. No one noticed the old Hogwarts student amongst their ranks.

Finally, it was the turn of Hogwarts. From the spectators, a handful of students broke free. Gradually, more followed their lead. Great cheers rose up as the favourites entered their names with ease, whatever charm had been placed on the Goblet not threatening them. Last to add their entry was Scorpius. He swaggered towards the Goblet of Fire, holding his parchment tauntingly. Several Gryffindors muttered under their breath that they hoped it didn't take it.

There was a second's stillness after he released the parchment. Then, a stampede broke out from the Slytherins. He was bombarded with hugs and shouts as they relished in their hopeful champion.

From a corner of the hall, Rose Weasley watched him in disgust.


	6. The Champions

Tension was almost sickening as the students crowded into the hall for the Announcement Feast. Strangely enough, it had been decorated for Hallowe'en. Everyone cast disconcerted glances at one another, obviously wondering why it was a day late. However, they weren't going to argue. The pumpkins were quite fun to put on your head and scare your friends with.

"Students and staff of Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang! It is time to announce the champions! Also, I would like to apologise for the decorations – I'm afraid I may have forgotten that yesterday was Hallowe'en." Professor Kopf went to scratch his head, but only managed to knock off his hat, causing the usual ruckus. When he straightened up, the students subdued. They were all waiting.

The doors to the Great Hall slowly swung open as Kingsley Shacklebolt entered, the Goblet of Fire levitating before him. As it landed with a clunk before the spectators, they all held their breath.

Suddenly, the Goblet began to spit as the flames blazed a burning scarlet. From its fiery tongues, it expelled a piece of parchment. Professor Kopf made a brave swipe for it, but missed and toppled over. The fear was palpable, but the moment of relief was welcomed.

"Sorry about that." The Headmaster got back to his feet, brandishing the parchment which he squinted at. "The first champion, from Durmstrang Institute, is" he seemed to struggle with the pronunciation "Vladimir Vladislav!"

A great roar resounded from the Durmstrang students, from whose midst rose a tall, dark haired male with rather a humorous 'confluence of eyebrows' in that, he had a unibrow. He marched with impeccable precision to the room designated to the champions.

Rose watched the door slam behind him and crossed her fingers beneath the table.

The Goblet blazed crimson again. Once more, a parchment soared from the embers and landed in Professor Kopf's hand. He read "The Hogwarts champion..."

Everyone waited with baited breath. Scorpius, Albus, Molly and Lysander were focused on nothing but the paper that could hold their victory.

"Scorpius Malfoy!"

A deafening stampede of cheers burst from those clad in green. The Slytherins got to their feet, beside themselves with glee as the son of Draco Malfoy sauntered out of the Hall, the look on his face only conveying one message: this tournament was his.

The Goblet of Fire flared red one last time. Every eye was focused on the parchment that flew from it. Professor Kopf unfurled it and, after what seemed forever, read "The Beauxbatons champion is"

Rose screwed her eyes up, her stomach tightening into a knot. Then, she realised everything had fallen silent.

Professor Kopf had frozen. He was staring down at the parchment as if he couldn't believe his eyes. Her heart almost stopped. She knew what it said.

The Headmaster gave a weak gasp, before clearing his throat and announcing "Rose Weasley!"

It was as if someone had just said Voldemort had returned. A hush, quieter yet louder than any other, had suffocated Hogwarts. Only one person moved different than the rest.

The champion of Beauxbatons slowly stood on her shaking legs. As if she were a magnet, every head snapped towards her. It was all she could do not to collapse right on the spot. But she willed herself not to look at anyone and walked with all the courage she could muster towards the door. If she could reach it, she would be safe.

Faces, once familiar, were staring at her like they'd never seen her before. What was running through their minds? Did they realise she had been expelled? Perhaps they thought she had transferred...but why would she do that? No. They knew.

She couldn't look at her old teachers as she passed them, even though Professor Longbottom was trying desperately to catch her eye – he was shocked to see the daughter of one of his closest friends again.

Her hands were trembling uncontrollably as she thrust open the door and staggered into the side-chamber. Her head was spinning, making her nearly unable to walk.

Scorpius and Vladimir were stood at either side of the fire. They would have cut an impressive sight, if Rose hadn't been so unpleased to see the former. However, Vladimir looked a little lost, so she decided to introduce herself.

No sooner had she come to this decision than her stomach lurched and she felt her balance falter. Before she could trip, a heavy hand clamped on her shoulder and steered her further into the room.

"Come, mon champion." Madame Maxime's voice was imperious. She showed no joy in having the girl competing for her school. After all, it was almost like two Hogwarts champions.

"Well, well, well! Isn't this splendid!" Professor Kopf clapped his hands together. "The right number of champions, and all of them of age!" His gaze was resolutely avoiding Rose. She felt distinctly small and undesired at that moment.

"I'm sure you'd all like a moment to introduce yourselves to one another?" Professor Lycon inputted smoothly. Scorpius felt unnerved. There was something mocking in his tone, and he could tell that it was because he knew Rose was already known to him.

"Rose Weasley." She spoke faintly, extending her hand to the Durmstrang student, who shook it vigorously.

"Vladimir Vladislav!" He replied eagerly, but then a look from his Headmaster wiped the smile off his face.

Scorpius simply stood there.

"Well...anyway." Professor Kopf ventured after a very awkward pause. "I'm sure you're all wondering what we have in store for you, champions!" he clapped his hands together. "Well, it's a secret!" He gave a wide smile and tapped the side of his nose with his wand. "You shall need all the courage and skill you have. Preparation for the tasks must be done alone. No teachers may be asked for help. And there is one rule you must remember for the First Task – you are not allowed a wand."

A gasp of protest came from the three students. They would be nothing without their wands! But the Headmaster shook off their rebuffs.

"You are all exempt from your end-of-year tests, as there shall be little time for revision for you. However, that does not mean you shall never take them!" His eye glinted as it settled on Malfoy. "You must return next year to do them. But, before I bid you goodnight, I shall leave you with one last piece of information – the first task shall be on November the 30th. I hope you come prepared."

With that, he gave a departing smile and left. Headmaster Esöb mercilessly clapped his hand on Vladimir's shoulder and led him from the room, muttering "venstre, høyre, venstre, høyre!" The other teachers and the Minister, who had entered, followed their lead.

Madame Maxime gave Rose a cold smile. "Au revoir, Rose! Félicitations!" and she swept after the others. This left Rose and Scorpius alone.

She made to leave but he grabbed her arm and pulled her back. "Rose, I'm sorry."

She did a double-take. "About what?"

"About everything! I guess I was a bit of a jerk to you..." he ran a hand through his hair in agitation.

"Scorpius, you don't have to apologise."

"I don't?" His face lit up.

"No, it's just who you are. Besides, it's not like we're friends. Best of luck in the Tournament...I hope you're prepared to lose." In a swirl of hair, she turned on her heel and left him gripping his blond locks consumed by a wild tangle of fear and desire.


	7. Owl Post

"Miss Weasley!"

Rose turned, half her body exposed to the bitter chill of the night air, half still bathed in warmth from the Entrance Hall. A small figure was hurrying towards her. As it ran beneath a torch sconce, she realised who it was.

"Timmy!" Bringing her foot back inside, she pulled the door to, a slight shiver running through her as the crash echoed through the high-ceilinged room.

"I...I have a letter for you." The little boy held out a trembling hand. Curiously, she took the envelope from him.

"Who's it from?" She didn't recognise the writing.

"I don't know..." He sounded strangely terrified. "There's been a bit of a problem in the Owlery, something about droppings, so I've had to deliver all the letters for my detention."

"Thanks, Timmy." She smiled as she slid her finger beneath the seal.

"I'd better get back. P-professor Lycon will kill me for being gone too long."

"Professor Lycon? Is he that one who spoke at the Feast?"

"Y-yes. He's in charge of this Tournament, b-but...he's..." Timmy glanced around, as if the teacher could hear him, and beckoned Rose closer to him. He whispered in her ear. "Evil."

Rose let out a small laugh, but stopped when she saw the grave expression on his face. "Hey...everyone said Professor Snape was evil. Remember not to judge a book by its cover, all right?" She gently wrapped her arms around the small Slytherin (whose head barely reached her chest) and sighed. It really wasn't fair the way Malfoy treated him. She'd always had a soft spot for the boy.

"But you can get a pretty good idea." His voice was muffled against her.

"Come on, kid, you should get back." She ruffled his hair and pulled away. He clung to her like a toddler, but she carefully prised him off. "I promise you, Professor Lycon is not going to murder you. It wouldn't be very good for his job!"

As his silhouette faded away, Rose gazed down at the letter in her hand. It was half sticking out and she could see the writing was printed in block capitals. Disconcerted, she ripped it free and read:

**TO ROSE,  
EXPELLED, BUT WHAT FOR?  
DADDY WOULDN'T BE PROUD IF HE KNEW THE TRUTH.  
DON'T FORGET – I KNOW WHAT YOU DID LAST TERM.  
YOURS TRULY **

**-ANON**

The parchment slipped from between her fingers.

* * *

"You look like you 'ave seen a ghost." was Jacque's greeting as she returned to the Beauxbatons carriage.

"There are plenty of ghosts around Hogwarts." Rose muttered, sitting on the bottom step.

"You know what I mean. Is everytheeng all right?"

She shook her head. "I hardly know."

* * *

Did Rose Weasley like being a champion? No.

She was sick of Beauxbatons students swarming her to offer their 'félicitations' that she didn't want. She was sick of being followed by a constant horde of boys all begging to 'explore her Chamber of Secrets' and she was sick of the images that plagued her mind as she thought of the upcoming task.

Did Scorpius Malfoy like being a champion? You may as well ask 'were Fred and George Weasley twins?' The answer could only be yes.

He loved the constant cheers that arose every time he walked past. He loved the way girls fawned over him. He was completely willing to answer their pleas of 'letting them ride his broomstick'. He loved seeing the indignation on Albus Potter's face and knowing he caused it. He loved the pride he got in writing to his father to boast how he managed to, once and for all, beat Potter.

They were as different as day and night. But as surely as day came, night would follow.

* * *

One night, a week before November 30th, Rose sat in the Library. A stack of books surrounded her – but she lay fast asleep on the scrubbed wooden table.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

She jerked awake, her neck shrieking with stiffness. The tapping repeated. Blearily, she pushed her head up and looked around.

An owl was at the window.

Cautiously, she lifted the pane and it gave an annoyed squawk, casting a letter in her lap along with something else rather less pleasant. Now she understood the problem the Owlery had had. A rumour had been spreading round that Filch had put cat food out for the birds. She narrowly avoided it hitting her. However, when she unfurled the letter and saw the writing, she almost would have preferred the droppings.

**DID YOU LIKE MY LAST LETTER? THERE ARE MANY MORE TO COME!  
I CAN'T WAIT!**

**-ANON**

* * *

Scorpius lounged across the sofa in the Slytherin Common Room. Lorcan sprinted over to him and he sat up expectantly.

"There's a letter for you. But...it's not from your dad." Lorcan passed over the envelope, swallowing hard. Scorpius turned it over to see the seal had already been broken. "Sorry...you said you wanted to know immediately if it was your father-"

"Shut it." Scorpius held up a hand, his voice dead. He stared down at the letter.

**TRIWIZARD CHAMPION IS ONLY A TITLE. DADDY DOESN'T SEEM TO CARE!  
HAHA, SUCKS TO BE YOU!**

**-ANON**

* * *

**A/N: Aaaaaaand...the plot thickens. Thick plots are always better. Thick thick thick thick thick. Thick no longer sounds like a word.**


	8. Three Champions Standing in a Tent

"Rose, Rose!"

She groaned as someone shook her shoulder roughly and turned over, planting her face into her pillow.

"Rose! Il est temps !"

"Time for what?" She mumbled against the fabric.

"La première tâche du Tournoi des Trois Sorciers!"

"WHAT?!" Rose almost fell out of bed in her haste to leap up. Helene was holding a banner saying 'Beauxbatons!' "No one told me!"

"Weell...you are een it! Eet was expected zat you would know..."

"When does it start?" She frantically pulled off her pyjamas and then stopped. "Wait...what am I supposed to wear?!"

"Madame Maxime sent me wiz zese!" Helene held out a tracksuit adorned with the Beauxbatons colours. On the back, in huge letters, was the word 'Weasley'. Rose almost could hear Scorpius' voice sneering. "And eet starts een cinq minutes!"

Rose nearly choked on air. "Five minutes? But I haven't even eaten yet!"

In response, Helene handed her a slice of toast.

* * *

Five minutes and a second later, Rose was to be found stumbling into the champion's tent a little way away from the stadium. She barely noticed her surroundings, nearly knocking over a Daily Prophet reporter as she dashed towards Kingsley Shacklebolt, her already bushy hair looking like it had been electrocuted.

"You're late."

She was bent over double, gasping for breath, but she looked up to see an unfamiliar Professor bearing down on her. She suddenly recognised him as Professor Lycon. "Hardly." She spat, clutching at a stitch in her side.

He gave a small snarl but was interrupted by the Minister for Magic. "Now, now, Vicente. It's not like she was an hour late." Vicente Lycon? Sounded like some gothic vampire. "Now, gentlemen and lady." Shacklebolt's eye twinkled at Rose. Scorpius straightened up, evidently hoping for the Minister to notice him. "There is nothing I can tell you about what is facing you. You shall be unarmed, and this shall be a test of your strength as well as courage. Nothing out there will be looking to kill you...unless you anger it."

A collective shudder ran through the three competitors. Kingsley continued. "You are allowed to forfeit, but to do so will not give you the clue for the next task, which could be considered essential. Also, you shall be put in last place, with a score of zero. There shall be six judges – myself, Madame Maxime, Professor Kopf, Headmaster Esöb, Professor Lycon and the Head of the Department of Magical Sports and Games, Aeron Boneman, who asks to be referred to as 'Mr A'." The Minister's voice was clipped in evident disapproval.

"Who goes virst?" Vladimir asked, his voice shaking slightly and his eyebrows, if possible, even tighter knit together.

Shacklebolt pulled out his wand, muttered something and it spun wildly in his hand. Rose stepped slightly aside, hoping to trick it into believing she was Scorpius. However, as it slowed to a stop, it settled on Vladimir. He gulped.

"At the sound of the cannon, Mr Vladislav." Kingsley cuffed him on the shoulder bracingly. "But who shall go next?" His wand twitched slightly, moving sideways and landing on Scorpius. "Ah...so, Rose, you are last. Once you have competed, you shall remain with your Headmaster or Headmistress, unless you are injured, in which case you go to Madam Pomfrey."

Suddenly, as Scorpius made to ask a question, he was drowned out by the boom of a cannon blast. Vladimir's legs were shaking as Kingsley led him from the tent. Blinding flashes were emitted from the camera man that raced after them.

And then there were two.

* * *

"Can you hear anything?" Scorpius asked after a moment.

"Not now that you're talking." Rose replied sharply. She was wringing her hands together, willing them not to tremble.

"Doesn't sound like he'd died..."

"Are you aware that you're speaking?"

"Yes." He smirked. "I hope you haven't got your wand secretly stashed somewhere."

"I'm not a guy; I can't exactly hide it anywhere without it being visible. Not that you could, unless your wand is two inches long." Rose suppressed a smile as she saw his face growing bright red.

"Sh-shut it!" He spluttered. "You watch yourself, Weasley, I'll tell my father about this!"

"What, that you have a small dick? I'm sure he'll be very proud. I thought your father told you to leave him alone, anyway."

He froze. She felt her lungs constrict. The look on his face showed her that it hadn't been a joke. "How did you hear that? N-not that it's true!"

"I...I didn't mean it."

"Good." A lump was visible in his throat. There was a moment when they both stared at one another, each willing the other to break the silence. Then, the sound of cheers rang out.

"Vladimir must have finished." Rose gasped.

"No shit." Scorpius tried to joke, but his voice was quaking uncontrollably. He was next.

There was a long pause.

* * *

**BOOM!**

Scorpius pressed his hands together, turning his head to the sky, then walked out of the tent.

And then there was one.


	9. The First Task

These must have been the sounds of Hell. The pounding of a heart against ribs. The strangled breathing. And...the screams.

Rose felt she wasn't sitting in a tent. She was sitting in the Judgement Room. This Task would write the answer. Had Vladimir passed through unscathed? Was Scorpius going to his death?

...Was she?

No matter how hard she tried to force the thought out of her mind, it shoved its way back after mutating and expanding grotesquely. Her pulse was deafening - some brutal form of torture invented to drive her insane.

Every time she tried to swallow, a lump constricted her throat with vindictive pleasure. Her hands clawed at her pockets for her wand, for safety, but she remembered she'd had to leave it behind. She was helpless.

It took a minute before she realised everything had gone silent. Scorpius had finished.

Seconds seemed to drag on into minutes, minutes into hours, hours into...well, yeah, the wait was long! She heaved a deep breath, which hitched in her throat as she heard it. The blast of the cannon. It was her turn.

* * *

The tent had been erected a slight walk away from the stadiums, from where cheers rose so loud they would have scared the clouds away, if clouds had feelings. Rose wasn't sure how she made it from the tent to the stadium, but her legs took charge and before she could realise, she stood beside the Head Boy. Wait...the Head Boy?

"Good luck." Albus pushed the door open, not quite meeting her eyes. She bit her lip and entered.

Was what she saw next what she imagined? Not really. There was...nothing. In a circle around her rose the seats, causing a suffocating claustrophobia, but between them...just space. Well, it looked like some sort of obstacle course. But hardly a terrifying test of one's courage!

She walked forward, barely noticing the thunder of applause as her heart leapt into her throat and nearly choked her. Surely...this wasn't right...

As she staggered up a hill, slipping slightly on the uneven rocks, she felt the tension mounting. The crowd knew what was going to happen...but she didn't.

Before her, a plane of rubble stretched out, yet strangely, wooden planks had been laid across it. As she lifted her foot to place it on the first beam, the crowd took a deep breath. She paused...then heard the ticking of a clock. She was being timed. If she didn't move now, she would lose.

Mustering all her strength, she stepped onto the planks...and the ground fell away. Taken by surprise, she lurched sideways, her body preparing to plummet to the abyss below. But her foot wound round one of the ropes that interlinked the wooden bars, the ropes she hadn't seen that connected...the bridge.

She felt the blood rush to her head and tried to pull herself back up...but then she saw what was below her.

Fire.

Scorching flames that devoured the rock around it, its merciless tongues clawing upwards...towards her.

A yell escaped her mouth as she felt the heat crawling over her skin. With a great heave, she grabbed hold of the bridge and pulled herself onto it.

Exhausted, she rolled onto the beams, panting, with sweat cascading over her forehead. She couldn't go on. But then she saw something that made her realise she had to.

The blaze was growing. Its hissing spirit was on the hunt for her. Then she realised something even worse. Wood and fire didn't mix.

She scrambled to her feet as the bridge behind her started to fall away. She kicked off in a run, desperately trying not to fall between the gaps and plunge to her death. Behind her, raging and desecrating, the fire ploughed through mercilessly.

The end was in sight, if she could just reach it...

She could feel the leather of her shoes singing, but didn't dare look round and see the rearing head of the flames inches from her.

Suddenly, the bridge gave in. She'd been too slow. It succumbed as victim to the inferno. But she wouldn't let herself be taken. She lunged forward and grabbed hold of the beam before her, which still clung onto the other end of the bridge for dear life. Now, she was clinging onto _it_ for dear life.

The fire wouldn't ever let her escape. It was hot on her heels, both figuratively and literally, as she clambered up the newly formed ladder.

"Come on." She gritted her teeth, pulling with all her might, kicking at the wall of rock before her to propel herself. "Argh!" She winced as her hand caught a shard of wood, splintering her skin.

Two more planks...one more plank...

She was free.

* * *

Rose crashed to the ground, coughing heavily from the smoke that engulfed her lungs. But she hadn't done it yet. There was a clue...she had to get the clue! Before her, a path stretched into the unknown. Yet not in the direction she hoped. It spiralled down...into the heart of the fire.

"In the name of Merlin's dirtiest underwear, you have _got _to be kidding me!" She screeched, stumbling to her feet. The crowd had fallen silent, watching her in awe as she lay motionless on the floor. However, they now let out a rousing ovation, willing her on.

"Come on. If Scorpius can do it, anyone can!" She clenched her hands into fists and began the descent. Surely that was no ordinary fire...

As the path steepened, she nearly found herself falling headfirst into the fire. But she managed to regain her footing, her heels bent painfully at an angle away from her toes. There must be something she could do to get past the conflagration.

If she hadn't been prepared before, nothing, _nothing_, could have prepared her for this. From the depths of the flames rose her worst nightmares.

A blazing Chimaera sprung free, raising its head to the sky and roaring. It was a sound that would have frozen her bones, had she not been burning alive.

Worse was yet to come. With a ground-shaking snarl, a behemoth unfurled its wings and opened its mouth, revealing a set of spear-like teeth. The dragon let out a jet of molten flame, and Rose only managed to dive aside within a split-second of her life.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she lay flat against the ground, paralyzed with fear. What was she supposed to do? How could she get past?

Summoning every last drop of courage, or something that felt like courage, she rose one final time to her feet, meeting the dragon's eye with a steely glare. "I'm not afraid of you!" It growled and lashed out; its tail collided with her leg and she felt her balance give, falling into the flames.

She waited for the burn as her flesh was consumed, torn from her bones with a burning agony. But it never came.

The fire had disappeared. She spun around, her breath catching as she wondered if something was waiting, hidden, ready to strike. Yet, a buzz of noise issued from the spectators, growing rapidly, as they voiced their confusion. Hadn't this happened before?

Her eye fell on something a little way away. It was a silver box. She reached out, but as her skin touched the metal she pulled away, staring at the burn on her finger. It was red-hot. She forced her sleeve over her hand, wincing as she slowly lifted off the lid. She could feel it scalding beneath the fabric, but at least she could touch it. Inside was a crumpled piece of paper. Was this her clue?

She got to her feet, but next thing, an oppressing tidal-wave of exhaustion hit her and the last thing she felt was her knees giving way, before all turned black.

* * *

Scorpius' whole body was stiff from sitting in the same position for hours. His head lolled and he jerked awake. His gaze fell Rose's body beside him. This felt too familiar. A flash of a memory darted before his eyes. The young girl, lying motionless and bloody. Dead.

Suddenly, he looked around, realising he was no longer alone. He made to leap to his feet, but something pulled him back. He looked round and saw he was holding Rose's hand. With a yell, he wrenched himself free.

"Mr Malfoy." Professor Neville Longbottom nodded curtly at him. He flushed, trying (and failing) to look nonchalant.

"I thought someone should sit with her." He attempted his usual drawl.

"That was thoughtful." Neville narrowed his eyes, watching Draco Malfoy's son with suspicion. How would Ron feel if he found out Scorpius had been holding Rose's hand? "I was asked to check on her."

"Well, as you can see, she's up and about." Scorpius laughed, then stopped when Professor Longbottom didn't.

"Do you think this is funny? She could have been killed! I don't understand!"

"What do you mean, she could have been killed? By the non-existent fire?"

"If it was non-existent, how do you explain these?" The Professor gestured to the burns that were scorched on Rose's skin.

Scorpius took a sharp breath. "It makes no sense, sir."

At that moment, the girl on the bed shifted. Her eyes fluttered open, and she sat up, looking around curiously. This expression quickly changed into one of excruciating pain and she fell back against the mattress, gasping. Scorpius was by her side in a second, yelling for Madam Pomfrey.

"Scorpius, I don't think-"

"Professor, you're not getting rid of me!" His voice was sharp. His eyes locked with Rose's and she swallowed hard.

Madam Pomfrey hurried over, her face haggard. "Miss Weasley, this may sting."

"Wha-AAH!" She instinctively grabbed hold of the closest thing, which happened to be Scorpius. He felt himself pulled forward suffocatingly by his jumper. Her burns flared as a thick paste was daubed over them. "I don't even remember getting these!"

"Well, it's just as well these are the only ones. Now, lie still." Madam Pomfrey gave a curt nod to Scorpius and bustled over to the next bed, where Vladimir lay bleeding.

"Is he-?"

"He's fine, Rose. Fell over." Scorpius prized her fingers from his clothes.

"Did you get any burns?" She raked her eyes over his body.

"No, Rose...there wasn't any fire."

She stared at him for a moment, then gave a nervous laugh. "Yes, there was...what do you think burnt me, air?"

"No, there was fire...but it was imaginary. A trick of the mind. It was to test our logic."

"You're wrong." Her voice shook. There had definitely been fire. _Real_ fire.

Scorpius said nothing, bending down and lifting her cardigan off the floor. As he did so, something fell out the pocket. "What's this?" He held up the ball of paper.

"Oh, my clue!" She snatched it off him, unfolding it.

He gave a derisive laugh. "Oh, you may as well get rid of it. It makes no sense."

Before she could question him, a voice interrupted them. "Rose, the judges need to see you." She glanced up to see Professor Longbottom watching her.

"I'm sure it can wait, Professor." Madam Pomfrey ventured, looking over her shoulder.

"No, it can't." He sighed.

Scorpius held out a hand to help her to her feet. Rose suddenly snapped "I can walk, thanks." He recoiled, retracting his arm slowly. She slid her legs off the bed, pushing herself onto her soles. She gasped slightly as she did so, but showed no signs of needing help.

Neville led her out of the makeshift medical room, out into the stadium. The crowd had dispersed, and only six people remained, in a box slightly jutting out from the stands.

"Rose Weasley?" A booming voice called. She started slightly.

"Y-yes?" Professor Longbottom surreptitiously sidled away as she gazed up at the judges.

"I am Aeron Boneman, otherwise known as Mr A, Head of the Department of Magical Sports and Games." That was one hell of a name! Rose wondered how they fitted it on his birth-certificate. "There is evidence of some sort of foul play involving your task. Whether it was by your hand, that is still to be decided."

Her mouth dropped open. "I didn't cheat! I swear! I don't know what happened!"

"Well, our secret scan confirmed you didn't have your wand on you. However, some wizards and witches are capable of channelling magic through their hands."

She laughed out loud. "I may be top of my class, but I'm not good enough for that!"

"Hmph. That is yet to be seen. This Task was supposed to involve you being faced by imaginary Fiendfyre, a vicious type of magical fire, but completely harmless when only part of your mind. However, you have ended up burnt, and the fire disappeared. Have you got an explanation?"

"No! I said, I don't know what happened! If I did, I would tell you!"

"Enough. We have decided there is only one option to deal with this. Until further study, you are awarded zero points."

She nearly stumbled back in surprise. Zero points?! "B-but...I nearly died!" She turned imploringly to the Minister, who had been a great friend to her since she was a baby. He merely nodded and looked away. "This isn't fair!"

"I'm afraid there is no choice." Professor Lycon growled. "This is our decision. Sorry."

Rose felt anger boiling inside her. It was all she could do not to raise her finger in an obscene gesture and start cursing her head off. But the repercussions of that could only be all the worse for her. Dejected, she turned and slumped back to the medical room.

Scorpius was waiting for her. "I heard what they said. Rose, I-"

"Don't." She dropped onto the bed, her voice dead. Taking steady breaths, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the clue.

_Sunken below lies where city,  
Lying answer find first you'll in your tow,  
Stride the currents not let your deter,  
Rushing ever tide beneath._

_Answer is the hidden second,  
Beasts green and foul is where ridden.  
Where fear tread to others search,  
Special dead ends lest someone up._


	10. The Aftermath

Rose shoved the piece of paper in her robe pocket. It was the third time in the last five minutes she'd pulled it out to look over the clue – she was actually counting. But what more was there to do? Madam Pomfrey insisted that she spend a week in the Hospital Wing to recover, and it was surprising how quickly the amusement of counting your teeth wore off...especially when you got a different number each time.

She wasn't exactly lonely. All of the Beauxbatons students had paraded in after her task, congratulating her (she wondered if they realised she'd come last). Even Madame Maxime had ventured a smile, praising her on her effort that was 'brave and nobling'...well, Rose's French was hardly any better.

Another frequent visitor was her brother, who had practically choked her with a hug after the task. He mumbled something about thinking she'd died, which really boosted her morale. Apparently, everyone demanded a re-vote on the scores, and all but the Slytherins said she deserved first place (Scorpius was leading, but only narrowly). Hugo seemed rather thrilled at having his sister competing in the Triwizard Tournament, and she was glad _someone_ did. However, he'd been the brunt of many curious and pressing inquiries after why she was competing for Beauxbatons and not Hogwarts.

Today, however, no one had come to see her. And so she was left alone, with a song from the Weird Sisters annoyingly stuck in her head.

"Hey, Rose?"

"No, for the last time!" She seethed inwardly. "I cannot dance like a Hippogriff, so stop asking!"

"Rose?!"

She started. The voice wasn't coming from her head. Scorpius stood sheepishly before her. She instinctively pulled her covers up slightly higher. "Oh...hi."

"Well, aren't you pleased to see me?" He took the seat beside her bed, grinning. She shifted nervously, sitting up straighter.

"When have we ever been pleased to see one another?"

He was caught off guard. He hastily dropped the thread of her duvet that he had been sub-consciously pulling. "I..."

"Malfoy." She yawned. "The only time we have been happy to see one another is when either of us is faced with imminent embarrassment or pain."

"That's not true!"

"Really? Sooo...you didn't laugh when that Venomous Tentacula pulled off a chunk of my hair in our second year? And you didn't laugh when you stole my Potions essay, gave me yours instead, and Professor Slughorn handed it back with a T?"

Scorpius laughed in spite of himself. "Oh, yeah, that was a good one! First O I've ever achieved!"

"Which I then took back when I found out the truth..."

"Oh, right. Forgot about that. So, you can't still be angry, can you?"

Rose hesitated, then extracted a crumpled piece of parchment from her pocket. "And, you didn't send me this?"

He took it curiously and unfurled it. As his eyes passed over the words, he paled and his jaw slackened. "I didn't send this to you."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes. Because...I got one, too."

Her eyes widened to saucer-size...although, not quite, because that would be a scary sight. "You did?"

"Yeah...but, I don't carry it around with me."

"Thought I might need it to blow my nose on at some point." She said offhandedly. "You still have it, don't you? It could be important..."

"Important?" He tilted his chair back. "It's just some loser sending us hate because we're more popular than them."

"Speak for yourself. The only people that don't hate me in this school are ones who are too foreign to understand why they should!"

"Is 'too foreign' really a real saying?" He grinned.

"Now it is. Anyway, has anything interesting happened since the First Task?"

"Well, I gave the clue a look-" before he could say more, Rose interrupted him eagerly.

"Did you see how the words look like they're jumbled up? I just can't seem to rearrange them..."

"Actually, I was going to say it made no sense, but your answer's better."

She ignored him. "Well, we can't discuss this. Champions helping one another is probably their biggest rule, aside from champions _murdering_ one another."

"Right." He replied unenthusiastically. He knew he had no hope working it out on his own. "Oh, I suppose you'll be interested – there's going to be a Yule Ball this year...and the champions have to open the dance."

She raised her eyebrows. "A ball? How cliché. So, you're saying we have to find dates? Oh, joy. What a time to flaunt the fact that every guy here is a douche. Guess you're going to make this a competition? En garde, monsieur!" She winked.

After a few dribbles of small talk, Madam Pomfrey bustled over and shooed Scorpius from the Hospital Wing. He left, secretly wishing he'd plucked up the courage to do what he'd gone there for.

* * *

"You'd better have something really important to say."

Scorpius smirked as Rose flopped onto the seat opposite him, her robes and hair flooding the Library. Madam Pince could be seen propped against a bookcase, seemingly having a heart attack. Rose ran a hand through her rain-drenched mane and groaned. "This is your fault, Scorpius Malfoy. Just after I recover, you make me walk about in the rain."

"Hey, I'm not in charge of the weather!" he leaned back, lifting his hands up.

"Very funny." She eyed him beadily. "You look like a dick doing that."

He slowly lowered back onto all four legs of the chair, his cheeks tingeing slight. "So...Weasley." he folded his arms, looking like he was prepared for some 'serious business'...if that business involved looking stupid.

Rose closed her eyes, yawning. "Oh, do tell me, Malfoy, I can hardly wait."

"I was thinking...you know how we have a history..."

She opened one eye, appraising him with a slight grin. "Well, we don't, but carry on."

He cleared his throat, paused for a long moment, then blurted out "I-think-we-should-go-to-the-Yule-Ball-together."

Instead of the surprised reaction as he'd imagined, she burst out laughing. "Oh, good one, Malfoy! Because I'm certain all these years of you referring to me as 'Blood traitor' and 'Weasel' were all leading up to this! Yeah, I don't think so."

He opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by a loud shriek.

"FOOLISH GIRL! OUT, OUT, BOTH OF YOU!"

He looked round to see Rose sheepishly standing beside a book which her hair had been slowly soaking. Madam Pince brandished her wand and sent the book flying after them, snapping at them all the way out of the library.

Rose laughed the entire way out, and, when they were free, fell against the wall in hysterics. "I forgot she was like that! Anyway, see ya, Scorp." With a grin, she sidled away.

Scorpius watched her once-again-redhead bobbing out of view, then let out a loud groan. Why, why had he been so rude to her all those years? It could only come back and bite him in the arse...something that he realised the book was still doing. With a yelp, he ran away.

* * *

Rose curled up on her bed in the Beauxbatons carriage. Had she just turned Scorpius down? This was what she wanted, surely? But, she would let her parents and all her family down by saying yes...besides, he was obviously only joking.

She tried to move into a more comfortable position, but something scratched across her back. Confused, she reached beneath her and pulled out a piece of parchment.

Her pulse accelerating, she read:

**Damn, nearly got you in the First Task!  
Next time you won't be so lucky.  
'Cause this Tournament is mine for the taking,  
Ta ta!**

**-Anon**

* * *

**A/N: I'm afraid this may be the last chapter for a while, I'm off on holiday on Monday! I'll try and keep writing, may get another chapter posted tomorrow, but don't forget about little me! :( Sooo...keep reading and DFTBA - Don't Forget to Be Awesome! :D**


	11. Nothing Says I Hate You More Than Anon

**A/N: Sorry! It's another short chapter, but I needed to add this before the Yule Ball! Also, I've had so little time to write now I'm away! But I hope it gives you something to think about! It may be short, but it is rather important.**

* * *

"Mr Malfoy!"

He groaned as someone shook him awake. Opening one eye, he saw Timmy's face hovering over him. He yelled and sat up, nearly knocking the kid out. "What the hell are you doing in here?"

Timmy stumbled back, his bottom lip wobbling. "I only came to tell you that Miss Weasley is here to see you."

Scorpius hoisted his legs over the edge of his bed. "Why do you call everyone Mr and Miss? You're not a bloody house-elf." He secretly added that he should expect to be treated no different.

"No, sir, but it's only polite. You should come right away. She's impatient." Timmy held his robes out for him.

Scorpius shoved him promptly out the room, feeling a little disgusted. It was rather obvious that the boy liked him...but Malfoy wasn't like _that_. He contemplated why Rose wanted to see him. Rub it in his face that she wasn't going to the Ball with him, probably. Then he grinned to himself. When he told her, he'd see who was laughing.

* * *

"He's coming, Miss Weasley." Timmy approached Rose hesitantly. She smiled warmly at him, and he couldn't help but reciprocate.

"Was your detention all right?" She asked, leaning against the wall and surveying the little boy. On close inspection, she saw he looked exhausted. His small face was pale and gaunt, and there were dark circles under his eyes. She hoped it wasn't because of Scorpius.

"Oh, yes, thank you, miss. But I've been far too busy helping Mr Malfoy prepare for the tasks." He stifled a yawn. Rose's eyes narrowed. He shouldn't have been getting help. Then she remembered that her dad had helped her uncle an awful lot.

"Why don't you ask him for a break?"

"Oh, no!" Timmy looked aghast. "I didn't mean I don't want to! No, I like helping him!"

Rose sighed. This boy gave far too much, and Malfoy gave far too little to their 'friendship'. Speak of the devil. The portrait leading to the Slytherin Common Room burst open and Scorpius sauntered out. He stopped short as he saw Rose glaring at him.

"Go, Timmy." He commanded, and the boy scampered away. Rose watched him go sadly then turned back to Scorpius. As she opened her mouth to speak, he interjected. "No, I won't be nice to him. He's never yet complained."

She shook her head. "That's not what I'm here for."

"No, I know what you're here for. Well, you can save it. I'm going to the Ball with Rhea."

She raised her eyebrows. "Who?"

His smirk faltered. "A girl. She's a Slytherin, and really pretty..." he said it very half-heartedly.

"Well, good for you."

"Don't talk like that. I've had a lot of offers, she's just who I chose."

"Offers? Really?" She snorted.

"I'm the Hogwarts champion." He had placed himself on a very high pedestal and nothing she could say would knock him off. "Although...some of those who asked me I rather wish hadn't."

"What do you mean?" She was secretly feeling extremely envious, but did her best to mask it.

"Well...let's just say our dear Vladimir hides a lot of secrets under those bushy eyebrows."

She burst out laughing. Malfoy's jaw hardened. Why did everyone think it was so hilarious that many guys liked him? First Timmy, now Vladimir...he hoped he wasn't sending off signals. "I suppose you'll be going alone?"

"It's not really any of your business, Malfoy. Anyway, that's not what I came here for." She fished in her pocket and handed him several pieces of parchment. "These anonymous letters...I think I've noticed a pattern."

He thrust them away from himself. "They're obviously just some stalker. I'd ignore them."

"A stalker who knows a lot about me!"

"I'm not going to lose sleep over it."

"At least let me see your letter!"

He took a long time considering, then delved into his pocket. As he withdrew a piece of parchment and unfolded it, a puzzled expression crossed his face. "I've never seen this one before..."

**I know exactly what you've done.  
Somehow, I don't think Rose does.  
It wouldn't take much for her to find out...  
Should I tell her?  
You decide. Do what I say.  
Or else.**

**-Anon.**

* * *

Rose saw his eyes widen and he shoved it in his pocket. "What did it say?"

"N-nothing."

"Scorpius, you have to tell me! There's more to these letters than it seems! Look!" She pushed a letter under his nose. It was the first one she'd ever received. He read it, perplexed. She pursued with her theory. "Read the first letters of each sentence!"

His eyes travelled down it. "Teddy?"

"Yes!" She nodded vigorously.

"As in, Teddy Lupin?"

"Yes." She took the parchment back, and he saw her fingers were shaking. He knew why it said that name. But she didn't know he knew.

He tried to muster up his old drawl. "Why on earth does it say the name of our old Defence Against the Dark Arts professor? Did you have a crush on him or something?"

She threw him a disgusted look. "No, that's my cousin! It's because-" she stopped, realising she'd never told anyone this. "It's about _that night._"

He had to do his best to pretend this was new news to him. Fortunately, he fancied himself a very good actor. "What do you mean?"

"I mean...I can't say. But that's all I can get from the letters. Teddy. I don't even know if I'm right."

Scorpius shook his head. He thought this was stupid. He didn't want to think about the contents of his letters. He wanted to lock them away in some deep cavern of his mind and never contemplate them again. He gave her a cold goodbye and left.

Rose watched him leave with a heavy heart. She'd hoped he would understand.


	12. Wardrobe Malfunctions

**A/N: I know I like disappeared off the face of the earth, but I'm back now! Finally updated! Sorry for the wait!**

* * *

From snatches grabbed of whispered conversations, there was only one topic on every mind. The Yule Ball. Who was going with who, who was wearing what, what was going to be there...if all the rumours were true, then the famous boyband 'Wand Direction' were going to be performing in the Great Hall-turned-palace complete with swimming pool and a Hogwarts-sized bar of all-you-can-drink Firewhisky. As nice as this sounded, it was about as likely as Professor Kopf being able to keep his hat on for more than 5 minutes.

Scorpius strutted about the castle, barely able to go an hour without someone asking him to be their date to the Ball. Several girls begged him to accompany them, only to have their actual partner clear their throat angrily and them to turn red and claim they were only joking. From a gaggle of First Years who couldn't escape the plague of pubescent acne to a horde of Seventh Years, most of whom couldn't tell the difference between a Summoning and a Banishing Charm, almost the entire female population of Hogwarts had dreamt of being Scorpius Malfoy's 'beautiful' date.

Rhea, who he had reluctantly asked, simpered and smirked, never missing an opportunity to clutch at Malfoy's arm and show off her 'prize'. Scorpius often only managed an uncomfortable smile at these moments, looking around sharply to see if Rose was watching. Even when she was, she was too busy having a silent laughing fit at his expression to show any signs of jealousy.

Certainly, Scorpius relished in the envy of every other male, as Rhea was extremely beautiful, but he had only eyes for Rose. Why would he want a girl who was as thick as a broom handle? He wasn't interested in listening to her infected voice that constantly wittered in his ear. The Ball couldn't be over soon enough for him. However, he was the only one who thought so.

Well, the only one apart from Rose. She considered such things awful and merely a way of the popular girls to show off just how popular they were. Madame Maxime harassed her constantly. In her words, Rose had to look 'beauteeful.' If she had it her way, she would have gone in jeans and a jumper. What she was going to wear remained a mystery. Every girl thought bitterly of how stunning Rose was sure to look. With the family she had, there was no doubt that she'd have the nicest, most expensive dress. This, is fact, was entirely false. They weren't the only ones wondering what she was going to wear. Rose herself had no idea.

She didn't own any dresses, and she wasn't going to write to her parents to ask for one. She hadn't responded to any of their letters. They were stuffed beneath her bed, and there were a lot of them. She didn't want to wear a dress, full stop. It was a stupid Ball that she didn't want to go to. If she was to be forced, she would be damned if they told her what to wear!

* * *

Hugo ambushed her the day before the start of the Christmas holidays.

"Rose! Oi, Rose!"

She stopped and turned, causing somewhat of a disturbance as the person behind her crashed into her at her sudden halt. Hastily stepping aside lest a domino effect occurred in the Entrance Hall, she hurried over to her brother. "What?"

"Remembered about me now, have you?"

"What do you mean?" Rose snapped, raising her eyebrows at him.

"It's been ages since we talked."

"That's not true. We talked the other day."

"You asked me where the toilet was..."

Rose shrugged. "What more do you want?"

"Look, Mum wants to know why you won't answer her letters." Hugo's eyes widened imploringly.

The elder Weasley shuffled her feet awkwardly. "I've been busy."

"Don't you know how selfish you're being?!" Rose recoiled as if he'd slapped her. Hugo's eyes flashed. "They're worried about you! You could get killed in this Tournament! Don't you know that they feel so bad about being horrible to you over the summer?"

"Oh, please. They still think I'm a monster." Rose's bottom lip trembled as the one person who had always been there for her was now looking at her as if she were the spawn of a Flobberworm and a Manticore.

"Rose, not even I understand what happened last term, but we don't hate you. They wanted to know if you were coming home for Christmas."

"Of course I'm not! I have to attend this bloody Ball, don't I? And I wouldn't want to go 'home', anyway."

"It's not just Mum and Dad who want to see you again, Rose!" Hugo straightened himself to his full height, which was still slightly smaller than his sister. "Uncle Harry has been writing constantly to try and get you to answer his letters."

Rose couldn't stop a look of surprise crossing her face. She had thought he, of all her family, would have wanted to eradicate any and all contact. What it would do to his name if they found out that his niece had...well.

Hugo smiled slightly. "Please, Rose. If you tell them what you told me, they'll understand."

"No, they won't. They still think I did it."

"But you're their daughter. They'll believe you."

She rolled her eyes. "You mean: they'll pretend that they do in order to get on my good side, then bitch about me behind my back."

"Stop, Rose. You don't know that."

"Rose!"

Jacque sidled up to her, tapping his foot expectantly. Rose stopped herself from telling him to stop following her like a lost puppy. "Hugo, I have to go."

"I guess I'll see you at the Ball." He eyed Jacque with something like dislike. The Beauxbatons turned his nose up slightly, his icy blue eyes glinting.

"I guess you will."

* * *

The eve of the Ball bore down on Hogwarts much faster than Rose had hoped. As she sat pulling at the threads on her blanket, a thought meandered across her mind. She had nothing to wear tomorrow.

Suddenly, she leapt up. It hadn't really hit her until then. Holy crap, what was she going to wear? As much as she wished to go in jeans, she knew she couldn't. Everyone would be looking at her...

Burying her face in her hands, she thought hard. She could ask one of the other girls...but they likely wouldn't have anything. Most of them were so skinny the clothes that they had would only fit a twig. What could she do? She couldn't just not turn up! While any old person could get away with it, she was one of the champions! And poor Jacque...she'd only half-heartedly agreed to go with him, but she did like him and it would be horribly embarrassing for him if she bailed on him!

There was nothing for it. She would have to write to her parents and hope her mother had something that she could send in time.

As she stood preoccupied, she felt a tap on her shoulder. Lowering her hands, she saw a Beauxbatons girl with infuriatingly white teeth smiling at her. She wordlessly handed Rose a parcel and then retreated. All the rest of the pupils were up in the Great Hall, finishing off dinner. But Rose hadn't felt like eating. She hadn't for a long time.

Pulse speeding slightly, she set the package down on her bed. Hesitantly, she lifted off the lid and her jaw nearly hit the floor. However, that would be rather peculiar, as it would have to fall off for that to happen, which it didn't. Inside..._was a dress._

And it wasn't just any dress. As she lifted it out and let it fall, she saw it was pale silver and, well, beautiful.

No happiness washed over her. Instead, a spark of fear shot through her body. Who had sent her a dress? There was a note attached to the parcel that she hadn't seen at first.

Pulling it off, she felt her lungs constrict as she saw the familiar black hand writing.

**Kiss kiss, Miss Weasley. Can't have a Ball without a Belle.  
I'll see you there.**

**-Anon**


End file.
